funkin around
Hello, well good evening, ladies and gentlemen
What we like to do right here—well first of all, let me let you know who I am
Well, I go by the name of André 3000, right?
And we come from a little place called like Stankonia, Georgia, right?
You know, right now everybody wants to be from space
And like want to be from the country and everything like that
You know, like, really, like, the South
It's like cool to be from the South right about now
Girls, listen up
Torn between Saturday night and early Sunday morn'
I don't know, I'm somewhere stuck in between-tween
I'm out here knowin' hip-hop is dead
The average nigga on my corner yellin'
"What the fuck you mean-mean?"
See, we ain't even seen the mountaintop
Counterclockwise goes the neighborhood
Hand-me-downs and canned goods
Won't cut the Grey Poupon
We got to make you run, back to the drawing board
Can't afford to lose, y'all make me yawn
1/1/91... my teacher sees potential in me, said, "Sit down, son"
And let me tell you like I heard it when I felt deserted
It wasn't no other way to word it, got my feelings murdered
By the bullet of bad, the singer of sad
Songs to make you long for your mom and your dad
Plaid clash with polka dots, I hope you ain't mad
Back up, little mama, I'm about to react
Yup, we ain't just funkin' around, ah-ah
No, you don't want to see me clown, ah-ah
No, tomorrow sounds like right now, ah-ah
People have ya party, but please don't be late
It's time to bounce, rock, roller-skate
Bounce, rock, roller-skate
Hey sexy mama, there's no time to waste
It's time to bounce, rock, roller-skate
Bounce, rock, roller-skate
Grab your partner, roll around, and feel the sound, ah baby
People have ya party, and don't be late
It's time to bounce, rock, roller-skate
Bounce, rock, roller-skate
While Scotty is beamin', lil' Pookie 'nem schemin'
What's the use of living, my nigga?
While you snoozing, I'm dreamin', I'm Tylenol PM
You amount to the same thing every day like per diem
Never tryin' to be nothing but a damn "What you're being"
One nation under the cool should be the rule
Whether young man or young lady begins or starts grade school
Silence before violence
Nine times out of ten times, the quietest is the livest
Fumblin' through your privates
Daddy Fat Sax, can they have your back? Naw!
Ooh! You're such a playa
Ooh! Your Southern drawl got me sprawled out
In your black book, my name was crossed out
Went from starting to second-string, now in the doghouse (Woof!)
Reminiscing, the party you was missing
Instead of arguments, you think about the hugs and kisses
If this is something hard for you to take
You better bounce, rock, roller-skate
Yup, we ain't just funkin' around, ah-ah
No, you don't want to see me clown, ah-ah
No, tomorrow sounds like right now, ah-ah
Yup, we ain't just funkin' around, ah-ah